


"What Am I?"

by Xzeihoranth



Category: BioShock Infinite, The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-01
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-10 20:45:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5600239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xzeihoranth/pseuds/Xzeihoranth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the Endless attempts to explain...things to Elizabeth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"What Am I?"

"You're not supposed to be here." someone says.

"No?" someone replies. "Why not?"

"No one is. It's between worlds, and that's not a good place for people to stay."

"I'm not people."

"Everyone's people. Even me." The first someone sits down beside the second. "Okay, I'll bite. How did you get here?"

"I opened a tear halfway and came through. What about you?"

The first person frowns a little. "I guess I followed you."

"I would've noticed-"

But the first person shakes her head. "Your kind doesn't notice me unless I want them to. Same goes for my brothers and sisters."

"I had a family once." the second person says. The first person waits for her to finish. The second person looks up at her. "Don't ever take them for granted." she says.

"I don't." the first person says solemnly.

They wait for a while, listening to the not-waves and the not-music and watching the not-lights flash slowly in the distance. "Most people would be throwing up by now." the first person observes. "It's not good for them to be behind-the-scenes."

"I already told you, I'm not most people."

"You said you're not people. Progress!" The second person shakes her head and looks away. "So why here?"

The second person speaks, hesitantly, as if she knows how crazy she'll sound. "It feels like home."

"That's a place, not a how. But I think I know what you're saying." The second person looks at the first. The first person smiles. "Some American author wrote a book and called it You Can't Go Home Again. Wasn't his idea of course, but unlike most people he asked the person who came up with it if he could use it." She stretches her arms. "It's not true for everyone, but it was true for the right people, so they started saying it. And isn't that the way it goes?"

"That...that isn't at all what I meant."

"No? How about this: sometimes you have to make your home out of whatever you find. For some people, it's a shack made out of wood. For you, it's a sea of doors."

The second person considers this. "Wait. You said you're 'people', so...why aren't you throwing up or whatever?"

The first person flickers. That's the only way to describe it. "I'm a little more used to it than they are. And I get the feeling you're worth sticking around for."

The first person sighs. "I don't think I'll be able to carry on this conversation with the threat of vomit hanging over my head." She reaches out and opens a tear. "How do you feel about...Paris, 1983?"

"I love it!"

And off they went.

* * *

"You're taking this awfully well." the second woman says.

"I do my share of travel." the first woman says with a smile. "Although I gotta admit, it's not usually that clunky."

"Clunky?" The second woman sounds put-out. "I thought I was getting better."

"You probably are, but humans aren't supposed to do what you do." She holds up her hands to placate her companion. "I'm sure you've got your reasons; I just call it like I see it."

"I don't think reason has anything to do with it." The first woman waits. She knows the signs of someone who wants to talk but needs time to get their thoughts in order. "My father sold me. To himself. When he tried to take me back, my finger got cut off. And because of that I can open holes to other dimensions? I can see everything that was and will ever be? Everything that won't ever be?"

"No." the first woman says. "You see everything you're supposed to see."

"But I can see _everything_ -"

The first woman sighs. "I had this conversation with my brother. A long time ago. I don't like repeating myself. But like I said, you're worth sticking around for." It's her turn to think. It takes her much less time than the second woman. "You know what I think? I think someone had a dream about you, and he worked hard enough that his dream came true."

"So I'm not...real?" The thought is disconcerting, even for someone who has minds in millions upon millions of worlds.

"I didn't say that. All I said was his dream came true. And when you think about it, what didn't start out as a dream?" The woman smiles suddenly. The ankh around her neck flashes in the sun.

"How do you expect me to answer something like that?"

"I didn't say I did." the first woman says. "But to know that one knows what one knows, and to know that one doesn't know what one doesn't know, there lies true wisdom."

The second woman frowns. "That's...Einstein, right? But how does one know what one doesn't know?"

"Do you know who I am?" the first woman asks.

"No..."

"There you go then." the first woman says. She pushes her chair back and stands up. "I gotta run. It was nice meeting you Elizabeth."

"How do you know my name?" Elizabeth says in shock.

"I know what I know." the first woman says. For a moment, she looks older than anything you can imagine, and then she is gone.

**Author's Note:**

> It doesn't flow well, I know. But I finished rereading Sandman for the second time in many years (I read it a couple months ago, then Overture came out, I read that, and I wanted to reread the series again) and I really wanted to try and write one of the Endless.
> 
> Still, better to try than not.


End file.
